Of Many Girls, Pebbles and Laughs
by Albedo de Lute
Summary: (Sacred Stones) An interpretation of Ewan's and Ross's C and B supports. Ewan's personality is that in the Japanese version.


Of Many Girls, Pebbles and Laughs

* * *

Ewan leaned forwards and upwards on his toes, kissing the slightly taller girl on the cheek. She blushed as he said "thank you" and took his leave. 

Her consort monk wrapped an arm lovingly around her shoulders as they watched the sage-in-training walk away. "Such an innocent child..." Artur murmured.

"Yes," Lute answered, resting her head on his shoulder in turn. "He has the potential to become almost as great a sage as I. I am glad to have helped him scout out his path into magic..."

None of the two saw Ewan's smirk, which suggested a character not to be described as entirely innocent, as he walked away. He thought that the meeting had been very productive; he had both learned a valuable lesson about the harnessing of magic _and_ he had gotten to give a supposedly "thank-you" kiss in return. Smiling inwardly as his train of thought continued, he wondered if he should have let his hands wander a little, feel how firm she was - but then, that was pushing the limits of the innocent facade he put on, and also ran the risk of offending Artur. While the man was a monk, at his deepest inside he was still a man, one who loved Lute deeply and who in a burst of passion might think from his pelvis instead of his brain. Besides, flirting with a woman already coupled with another was in the end a fruitless gesture, and Ewan would much rather focus his energies on someone unattached...

His thoughts were broken as a somewhat rough hand landed on his shoulder, along with a voice saying "Here you are! I finally tracked you down."

Ewan turned around. "Hi. Um... who are you?" he asked. He thought it rather impolite that the other boy, as he could see now, did not give his own name first, but Ewan did not voice his displeasure. Scanning the other's appearance with a swift skimming glance, Ewan concluded that this person was an axe fighter, judging by his unusually prominent muscles, and was uneducated, judging by the face and the lack of general politeness.

"I'm Ross. You?" Having had one bad experience a while ago with announcing his ancestry unasked, Ross declined to add the phrase "the son of the warrior Garcia".

Ewan had heard tales from a certain prodigy about this Ross and his woeful lack of intellect, but as a generally good-humoured (not to be confused with good-natured, as his teacher, who knew about his skirt-chasing habits, knew) boy, Ewan decided to give Ross the benefit of the doubt and in any case to befriend him. Lute's genius (and she was truly a genius, Ewan had realized after having had a few conversations with her) made anyone of average mindpower seem rather retarded to her, and this no doubt had influenced what she had told him about Ross. Ewan now understood why she had thought so, having just experienced the same thing a few seconds ago. Now armed with first-hand knowledge he thought that her opinion was somewhat extreme, if only a little.

Amid this flurry of thoughts flying through his brain, Ewan's mouth managed to answer, "I'm Ewan."

"Hey Ewan, nice to meet you. I've been looking for someone around my age. Let's hang out sometime, okay?" Ross said with cheeriness to rival Ewan's when the latter was trying to score with a girl. That he had never completely succeeded was something Tethys had attributed to his young age, something that he protested was not the case. And every time she had then told him to let "it" "hang out" so that she could compare "it"'s size to Gerik's, something which always shut him up along with giving him a rarely-seen blush. But he and she knew the limits set by their siblinghood, unlike a certain pair of twins, judging by the sounds he occasionally heard from their royal tent on the nights he was on watch duty.

Meanwhile, his mouth once again acted on its own accord, saying, "Sure, but do we have to wait until sometime? How about now?"

Ross gave him a strange look, almost a glare in its severity. "What're you saying? It's almost time to start fighting the next battle!"

"It's okay," Ewan assured him. "The others are fighting well, and, well, the two of much won't make too much of a difference. Besides, I've just had a primer on the next level of magic, so I'm pretty good. If anything happens, we'll be okay."

"Well, I'm pretty confident in my skills too... but, you know..." and here Ross trailed off, thinking hard of which words were most appropriate, "how to put this... delicately... it's not the fighting itself, it's a... a matter of morale."

Ewan was impressed by Ross's maturity, but the sage-in-training remained convinced that he was still more of a man. "You certainly are dedicated," Ewan observed. Not as much as himself, though, he thought, following Amelia around for days waiting for the perfect moment when a combination of wind, miniskirt and lunging attack granted a rare and exquisite treat for his eyes. It was too bad that he was too greedy then, giving away his presence before he could make full enjoyment of that opportunity. At least a glimpse was better than nothing, and he had managed to avoid being labeled a pervert. "That's a surprise..."

"Hey!" Ross protested. Ewan started. Had he muttered the last thought out loud?

Steering the conversation out of dangerous waters, he said, "Why don't you prove your dedication by answering this brainteaser?" Ewan knew that the logic did not make sense, but it did not have to; as long as his tone carried enough conviction no one would seriously object. It had worked many times on girls, he reflected, they- he cut off the train of thought, lest it end with him saying aloud something not meant for any ear again.

"Like a riddle? Sounds fun!" Ross replied.

"Oh yes, it'll be really fun to watch you struggling to come up with an answer," Ewan teased. "Ha!"

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean? Well, whatever, let's do it."

Ewan was surprised and disappointed to find that his joke had not caused the indignified reaction he had expected: so much, in fact, that his mind for once did not come up with a dirty connotation for the last two words. Plowing on regardless, he continued, "Do you know what a balance is?" He could have assumed that any average person would know what a balance was, but from the way the conversation had went it would be prudent not to assume too much.

"Of course I do!" Only now did Ross take up the indignified voice. "Who doesn't?" Perhaps you don't, the thought floated through Ewan's subconscious mind, although he quickly suppressed it - it would not be a good way to make a new friend! Ross proved him wrong in that aspect, however. "It's a type of scale with small plates on both sides to put weights. When both sides are the same weight, it balances. So that was the riddle? Easy!"

"Ha ha ha! You're too funny!" Ewan laughed at one of the best jokes he had ever heard in his life. Perhaps this one would bear retelling to another girl - his laughing subsided when he was that Ross was not also laughing along, but looked rather confused. Perhaps Ross did not mean that as a jest, which meant...

The red-haired boy pushed the thought aside and continued explaining his riddle. "No, that was just the setup. Now, here's the real question. Assume there are twenty-five pebbles-"

"Pebbles?" Ross interrupted.

"-yes, they are really small. As small as peas, and all the same colour and shape. In this group, there's one pebble that's lighter than all the other-"

"And I must tell you the way to find that pebble?" The axe-user (one did not _use_ magic, but one did use weapons) interrupted again.

"-of course not! What's kind of challenge is that? The question is, how many times do you need to use the balance to find that one rock?" At last, Ewan was able to finish presenting his brainteaser.

"How many times? Uh... it's not twenty-four times, is it?" Ross was clearly not adept at these kinds of problems.

"What?" Ewan couldn't help it. "Oh!" He burst out laughing again. "Ha ha ha ha ha!" He clutched his side, so raucous was his laughter. At last, he calmed down enough to speak again. "That's the first time I've heard that one! I see. So you were thinking that you'd measure the pebbles one by one! That's great, Ross! You're so funny!" It was true, although the humour was definitely at someone's expense. Ewan had previously thought that he had already heard the best joke he could ever hear... and this one had just beaten it, like meat tenderizer, spanking, a bit of flux thrown in for good measure and more.

"That's not a compliment, is it. You think I'm an idiot!" Ross almost shouted, not in anger but in embarrasment.

"That's not true," Ewan answered at once, his politeness taking over. But Ross finally realizing that he was a bit of an idiot was too funny again... "Actually, it is," Ewan admitted. "Ha ha ha! And did I mention how perceptive you are, too?" Another barb, another laugh.

"Oh, you! Just you wait! I'll figure it out! I just need some time to think about it!" Flustered, Ross stormed off to join the battle now beginning, swinging his axe with more strength than usual. If nothing, at least his battle prowess had been temporarily improved...

"The anticipation is killing me," Ewan said to Ross's back, his voice smooth as silk and dripping humourous sarcasm like droplets of water off Marisa's body after she took a bath...

The sage-in-training too entered the battle, before someone like General Seth noticed and reprimanded him for hanging back.

* * *

After yet another victory, Prince Ephraim allowed his army a short rest before marching again to avoid having to set up tents over corpses and boil blood with campfires. As a magician, and a boy, Ewan's responsibilities for the transport of material were nil, and so he walked browsing through the pages of the tome he had recovered from the battlefield. 

"Hey, you!" The familiar voice rang out again behind him. Fortunately for Ross, Ewan was in a much better mood than a certain female mage had been in after another battle a time ago, so he did not feel the need to lecture the naïve boy on the finer points of common etiquette. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he did not suffer monthly from internal bleeding, and he would be very happy indeed if he could have eased Lute of that burden for nine months. However, that would be a task that only Artur could perform now, apparently...

"Oh, hi, Ross," Ewan answered amiably.

"I have an answer to your brainteaser!" Ross announced as proudly as if he discovered a new way of casting spells that did not involve vulnerable chanting. Which, of course, he hadn't.

"You got it huh? That's amazing!" And about time too, you funny oaf! the sage-in-training did not add. Why was it that muscle and brain mass seemed to be mutually exclusive qualities? Ewan wished for a little bit of muscle himself; looks played a secondary but still significant role in impressing girls.

"Y-yeah. The answer is..." Ross trailed off, either from nervousness or trying to build up the anticipation. Ewan suspected the former, but he just said, "Yes, yes?"

"...four times!" Upon hearing this, Ewan almost pulled a double take but managed to gather himself together to reply, "You must have worked really hard to figure that out!" The tongue constantly sharpened by wit proves itself well. And the tongue constantly tuned by kisses finds itself very flexible, a trait generally favoured, but certainly not for a few specific areas of a man. Unfortunately, Ewan had never had a chance to test _that_ particular theory yet.

"See! See! I told you I'd get it! Fighting's not the only thing I'm good at." The balloon was inflating.

Ewan acknowledged that with a nod, although then he said along with a smirk, "However, that's not the correct answer."

Ross deflated like a balloon pricked by a pin. "What do you mean? I can't believe it! Ugh! If that's not the right answer, then what is?" he asked, looking quite crestfallen.

"You were close. The right answer is three times."

"Only three times? How? Tell me!"

Ewan took a deep breath, then spoke clearly and slowly, as he had been taught by Saleh. "The key is on how many pebbles you put on the scales at first. First put eight rocks each on either side of the scale. The side with the lighter rock will be higher than the other, right? Or, if the the sides are balanced, it means that the lighter rock is in the rest of the pile. So that was one turn on to the balance. The rest is pretty easy to figure out. Let's assume that the lighter rock is in the remaining pile of nine rocks... Then you'd put three rocks on each side of the scale. So that's the second turn. If either of the scale tips, then the rock is in one of those two piles. If the scale is balanced, then the rock is on of the remaining three rocks. So, now you've figured out which group of three pebbles has the lighter one. What you do now is put one rock from this pile on each side of the scale. Like before, if the scale tips to one side, the lighter pebble is one the scale. If the scale is balanced, then the remaining pebble is the lighter one. And that was the last turn on the scale. Did you get all that?" Personally Ewan doubted it -

and once again congratulated himself on his prophetic powers when Ross replied, "Huh?" It seemed to sound more like a grunt than a word, although that was probably just imagined. Well, girls might go for the witty type or the silent type, but Ewan had yet to meet one who went for the grunting type. He silently wished his friend luck should he ever attempt those kinds of endeavours.

"What! I just explained it all very clearly. You still don't get it? That's really..." Ewan mentally smacked himself for talking like that. He had just said something mean, and it was not something he much liked doing.

"Really what?" Ross pressed on, as Ewan realized that once again he had to helm the conversation out of dangerous waters.

"Um, nothing. Forget it. A ha ha ha ha!" He laughed nervously.

"A ha ha ha what? What do you mean, forget it?" The axe-user dogged his verbal steps in a startling show of persistence.

"Anyways, it's been fun hanging out. Let's get together again sometime, okay?" And with that, the young Ewan ran off, leaving behind a trail of carefree laughter for anyone who wished to follow.

"Hey!" Ross ran too after his friend.

* * *

Author's Notes:

This fic is written from the point of view of Ewan, in case you haven't realized. The dialogue is taken from the C and B supports, and Ewan's character is, I hope, a faithful representation of his personality in the Japanese version of the game.


End file.
